Pride of My Eyes
by CookandBaker
Summary: Fem!Kili Fem!Fili. Thorin loves his two nieces, but when he sets out to reclaim Erebor, they refuse to consider marriage (ever!) unless their uncle agrees to let them come. And worse, Dis is on their side. With the future of the line of Durin at stake. He reluctantly takes on the task of chaperoning the two warrior princesses across Middle-Earth to meet their collective fates.
1. Chapter 1

Fem!Kili and Fem!Fili short story. Thorin loves his two nieces...they are the joy of his heart and pride of his eyes... but hopelessly stubborn like their mother and grandmother. When he sets out to reclaim Erebor, they refuse to consider marriage (ever!) unless their uncle agrees to let them come along. And worse, Dis is on their side. With the future of the line of Durin at stake, he reluctantly takes on the task of chaperoning the two princesses across Middle-Earth. Stern! And Overprotective!Thorin sets ridiculous rules at first, but the two lasses attempt to set him straight and prove him wrong.

* * *

><p>Thorin set down his fork. He was exhausted after a long day of making arrangements under the mountain. He was proud of the two lasses, taking on the reins whilst Dis had gone for her twice-yearly spice-shopping in a neighboring settlement with Gloin's wife. Fili had made dinner, a delicious venison roast, and Kili had gone with him on his rounds.<p>

The Big Question was coming up, and this he knew and dreaded. No doubt this was the reason why the food was particularly savoury tonite, the meat juicy, fragrant and falling off the bone... they knew his weaknesses too well. There was no stalling the lassies, not like when they were children and could be distracted by a shiny toy or a change in conversation. With this in mind, Thorin quickly excused himself from dinner and went to the front room to sit by the fire and smoke his pipe. He could hear a whispered discussion and the clearing of plates, and presently Fili followed Kili. They approached him nervously.

"Uncle," begin Fili right after she untied her apron and folded it away nervously, "We heard of the Quest is nigh."

"Aye, I planned for it all winter with Balin and Dwalin," Thorin nodded, "We leave this year."

"How many will go?" Kili asked, helping Fili.

"A few from our halls, mostly from our kin. I will leave tomorrow as planned to meet with representatives from the Seven Dwarf Families."

Fili nodded, and settled down by the grate to poke at the fire. Kili followed her, but merely sat there and folded her knees.

"Uncle," said Kili, "Are we to accompany you?"

He hadn't said yes, he hadn't said no. He himself was split in two down this issue.

Kili lit her pipe and settled down to wait for an answer.

"May we, accompany you?" Fili amended Kili's question.

He looked down at the both of them, eyes misty and distant in thought.

They were capable, there was no doubt. He had arranged for them to train under the best weapons-masters, forgemasters, and all the lot. They were responsible, and would be an excellent addition to his company. They were loyal, eager, fiercely determined... mature, sensible... but this was a Quest! With long treks, rides... battles large and small, great adversities, and there waited for them a dragon at the end of it. This was no place for lassies.

He didn't answer the question.

"Why can't the both of you be like your mother?" he asked, fondly.

"_I _am," Kili tried to make light of the situation, "You have always remarked at my resemblance to amad."

True, Kili _was _like Dis. She had her eyes, her hair, her laugh, her smile... but of course, Kili was thin. Far too thin for a dwarf lass, so much so that Thorin worried it wasn't healthy. Fili was rosy-cheeked, with fair hair and rounder, more robust figure like Dis's well-rounded fullness. Kili was tall... but Fili was not short, just more like Dis than himself.

"Ah," Thorin clarified, "I meant it more... in that your mother wed a fine dwarrow and bore two daughters for the Line of Durin, and I have had difficulty enough attempting to convince the e lot of you to do the same."

It was true. They were coming of age, and fiercely set against every match Thorin suggested. He knew, of course, they had natural attractions, but they kept their tastes in malefolk to themselves, and spoke nothing of it to him or their mother. Fili more than capable (and experienced) in sending any and all suitors packing; she didn't need her uncle or mother for that.

"You have always taught us, uncle," Fili said with a hint of accusation in her warm voice, "That to be a dwarf is to be a warrior, to be a smith, to be a leader, to be loyal, to be brave..."

"And your own example has shown that marriage and making babies are of no particular importance," Kili corroborated.

Thorin knew his stout, stubborn sisterlings would never abide by him leaving them behind. They were, after all, their hope and future. The two adorable dwarf lasses, ruthless and brutish in their warfare yet ever attentive, wise and insightful... they were not little boys. Laddies would be reckless, these two were not. They were dead serious.

Thorin sighed a deep sigh. They were right. He was a hypocrite in this respect... and he was no match for their arguments. As children they had teamed up against him to outwit their poor uncle a great many times. He always fell for their clever arguments and pleas, so much so that Dis had to step into prevent a great many catastrophes he might have allowed.

When Fili and Kili were in league, he was helpless. As children, they had fought terribly, engaging in mean "catfights" that shook the entire household. Heavy volleys of verbal attacks and cruel pranks would be exchanged until a truce was reached. In the intervening peace, however, they were inseparably close.

_Dis._

"Your mother will have my head should I bring you," he changed the subject.

"She knows her own mind on this matter, mother does," Fili stated, "She would come to, if it was not for... for the injury."

_Dis, always eager to prove herself as a lass. She had taken the girls hunting for deer several winters back and had gotten a warg-bite, and a permanent limp. _

"Amad believes us capable," Kili said.

"I never doubted your abilities or loyalty," Thorin quickly said, "But the danger, the risk..."

"We cannot allow you to take the risk. We could not live with ourselves if anything happened to you, uncle. Even if you reclaimed Erebor, we would be ill at ease to live in its wealth having done _nothing..._"

"Please, uncle? Surely you will not do this to us..."

"I should leave the both of you behind," he pondered out loud, "Or perhaps take only one?"

That was too cruel, and he knew it immediately from the horrified looks that crossed their faces. Fili started running her hands through her shaggy blond beard, and Kili was rubbing her cheek-stubble.

"I can cook better than Mister Dwalin," Kili started to say, and Fili was muttering something about navigation, one of her strengths.

Thorin chuckled and waved away their protests, "I know your talents." He liked to see them laugh. He treasured the light in their eyes and a smile on their beautiful faces, so rare now as they become more and more weighed down by the burdens of life. He wanted them to be children as long as they could...

"Uncle," Fili drew herself up seriously and kneeled at Thorin's feet, which was a distinctly uncomfortable position to be in for him, "We will vow not to wed unless you allow us to stand by your side in reclaiming our home. After which, I will do my duty in that respect."

Kili followed her sister.

"So will I," she promised.

Thorin sighed and reached down from his chair to draw them up.

"Too good for me," he drew Fili's forehead near and kissed it, "Too good. You needn't bother to make such vows, I konw how you stick to your decisions."

Fili was faithful, and fearless. Kili was strong, like iron. They both were unquestioning and unwavering in their duties. He knew their strengths were many.

The wordless question hung in the air, yet.

"Fine," Thorin agreed at last, "I will allow both of you to join my Company."

He had his hands on each of their shoulders.

"I will leave soon, but Balin will explain the details about the journey and so forth. It is not as if I am capable of remembering... the what-tos and where-fors. We will meet soon, in Bag-End. But you must promise me, lassies, that if anything happens to me, you will both return to Ered Luin and _never, never _attempt a quest to reclaim Erebor or Moria. Do you hear?"

Fili and Kili nodded solemnly.

"We will do you proud," Kili promised, "Even when you a long gone, even as you watch us from the halls of Mahal."

He nodded solemnly.

* * *

><p>When Dis returned, she faced two nervous and eager young dwarrowdams who were trying to decide what to pack. She was happy, and sad at the same time. The next year would be long and lonely for her, and the future beyond that painfully uncertain. She would soon have to bid them goodbye, and send them on their way to travel alone to the meeting point the Grey Wizard has arranged.<p>

"Alone!" Dis exclaimed when she found out, "Why does your uncle Gloin or Balin not accompany the pair of you?"

"Uncle says we must prove our independence," Kili explained resolutely.

"Besides," Fili explained, "If we do not make it to the appointed place at the appointed time, Uncle will send us back here to be apprenticed to Mistress Rega as weavers for twenty-five years."

Dis smiled. Weaving was punishment indeed, tedious and painstaking as it was. Her daughters could sew, make shoes, tan leather, forge weapons... but they ran far from the clacking of a loom.

Whilst preparations were made in the short time they had left, Dis went and dug out her husband's silver clasps for Fili to wear on her long beard. It would make her feel brave, and remind her of her father. Then, Dis thought of what to give Kili. Perhaps a runestone, she decided, a promise for her return.

The night before sending them off and bidding them "Fare Well", Dis stayed up stitching the hem of Kili's hand-me-down coat and crying her eyes out in private. When dawn came, she washed her face, made breakfast, checked their packs, and went through the agony of saying goodbye. The last thing Dis did for them was sit them down like little dwarflings and brush their long hair, putting braids in Fili's dark golden curls and a clasp in Kili's brown ones.

"You don't have to prove anything to anyone," she whispered with much difficulty, "You are already my pride."

They were nervous, obviously. They wanted to do everything right, to prove that lasses were just as strong and resilient as lads.

"Remember to drink the tea _before _you get cramps, not after," she whispered. Fili blushed and looked away, clearly uncomfortable, but Kili seemed unmoved by the mention of _that _topic.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Fili and Kili rode in single file, neither wanting the other to see her occasional tears. The first day, they made it out of the Blue Mountain ranges, passing several dwarves going to and fro from various settlements. They saw few that they knew.

Fili led the way, being the navigator of the sisters. She was packed to the brim with knives, being very cautious (perhaps overly cautious). She knew that once her mind stop obsessing over home, she would settle down to enjoy the anticipation of the quest ahead, the quest she had waited for for almost all her life. It had been a distant dream, and she had hardly dared to believe that she could be allowed to go.

Fili knew she was a great disappointment. She could have been an heir, a son to carry on Durin's line, but here she was, a female. The odds of a female being followed by another, namely in Kili, were so slim, and yet by some miracle of fate, here they were, two sisters not far apart in age.

"Hey Fili!" Kili called to her sister from behind, "When will we be out of the mountains?"

"Soon. We will camp in the plains at nightfall, and tomorrow night we reach the land of the halflings."

"Not if you stop to smile and chatter with every passer-by along the way."

"I am merely being polite," protested Fili, "There are our people and our kin. They recognize us as nobles of Durin."

"Useless nobles, not heirs," reminded Kili sullenly.

"You, my dear sister," Fili shook her head, "Wish to rush our journey in order that we be quickly reunited with a certain handsome dwarrow by the name of..."

"Shut up!" Kili kicked her horse forward and reached to throw a pebble in her pocket at Fili.

"Oy!" Fili's horse jolted in surprise, and Fili tried to maintain her dignity as much as possible by ignoring her sister's attempt to start a fight.

"Oh dear. Oh dear. Shit." Kili's voice changed and she gulped.

"Mother will wash your mouth in last winter's lye if she heard that.."

"Fili! I've... lost the runestone from amad. I... I.. threw it at you. By accident."

Fili stopped her horse and turned to around to see a pale Kili had done the same.

"Oh no," Fili said, rolling her eyes, "How are you going to find it here. Look at the ground!"

They were on a rocky cliff, making their descent. There were hundreds, _thousands _of rocks, large and small.

"It could have fallen off the cliff," Kili started to say.

"It could still be here," Fili pointed out. She consulted the sun, which was high in the sky, "I suppose we could look for a couple of minutes."

Kili was already scrambling on her knees all over the ground hurried trying to locate the misplaced stone.

"That was a stupid thing to do, don't you think so," Fili addressed Kili's horse, which she stood and held. Then she raised her voice, "We might as well return to Ered Luin and get another one from amad."

"No, no," Kili mourned, "She'll keep me home and let you go. I'm so stupid. I've lost her gift within six hours of leaving."

"If we delay too long," Fili said seriously, "Uncle will send us home to..."

"Shut up and help me!" Kili said. She didn't want to lose this gift from her mother; it was precious! She didn't want to face the road ahead without it.

Fili kicked her feet a little, rubbing her bottom which was starting to feel sore and reaching down to adjust the new, stiff boots that were mostly likely to bring on blisters, even stuffed as they were with soft woolen socks.

"OH," Fili stifled a gasp. She looked at Kili, who was desperately searching a little way back, and with a slight grin on her face, reached down and stealthily picked up the runestone.

"We best get going," Fili said, trying not to laugh at Kili's mournful expression. Kili reluctantly took her pony's reigns from Fili and climbed up.

_She threw it at me, _Fili reasoned _I should keep it for awhile. To teach her a lesson._

* * *

><p>Night fell, and the two dwarves wanted to make camp. However, they passed an unfriendly group of wanderers along the road, Men who were traveling to the trading post of the Western sea. They looked like unsavoury, dangerous, characters, and Kili with her sharp ears had heard them leering about "the ugly dwarf wenches" and what they'd like to do with them, just before the dwarrowdams were out of earshot. Fili's face grew dim when Kili stated what she had heard in a low voice, in Khuzdul.<p>

Fili's arms automatically reached to feel her two strong swords. Carrying two swords was a precaution for her. It made her feel safe and protected; if anything happened to Kili's weapon, she had an extra one to lend.

"We ride ahead," Fili sighed. She was dead-tired, her eyes were drooping, and she was hungry. But safety meant more than anything else, and she needed to be strong for Kili, "We reach the Shire ahead of time."

"I ca-" Kili started to whine, then swallowed her whine, "Yes, namad. Surely it will be safer than way."

So they rode through the night, wary and weary. Both their hips ached with soreness, and Fili suspected she would not be able to sit or walk normally for a few days. Still, they had to be strong and prove they were tough, which meant finding some way of resting before showing up at... was it Mr. _Boggin's _home?

They had to try and stay awake, and now rode side by side. Kili was trying her best to stay awake, whereas Fili was trying to listen out for danger. Thankfully, the moon was full and illuminated their path. Some wolves (or wargs) howled in the distance and Kili felt distinctly uncomfortable.

"Is it more dangerous to travel by night, Fee?" she asked hesitantly, trying not to show the fear in her voice, "What if we are surrounded by a legion of orcs? Or a pack of wargs?"

"I doubt uncle would send us on a particularly dangerous road, you know how protective he is," Fili tried to reassure her, "And these are near our lands. Creatures of darkness would not venture so near. No doubt a few suspicious characters, travelers, but not great, grave, ill danger."

They were silent, having gnawed on cold bits of dry traveling food for supper. And they were a little cold, though not terribly so. Kili was feeling out-of-sorts and emotionally fatigued by the trauma of losing her mother's gift. _Inikh de_, it has said, "Return to me." Would she return now? Home, though only a little way behind, was indeed so, so far ahead.

Fili glanced at Kili whose pony was keeping pace with hers. Kili was really, really, struggling to stay awake, and off and on Fili feared that she would sleep and fall off her horse. The hours were long, unbearably long, and Fili's mind was on it last resource. In the grey, dusky light before dawn, Fili spotted a tree.

"We are far from danger, Kee," she said, and shook her sister, "Look, there is a tree under which we may rest.. "

"Rest," mumbled Kili incoherently.

Every bone in her body protested the movement, but Fili made quick work of coming off her horse, securing both their ponies to the tree and gentling arranging Kili by the trunk of the tree. Fili arranged Kili's cloak over her and let Kili snuggle on her lap, happy to be sound asleep at last..

Fili would not sleep. Instead, she sat up and leaned against the comforting tree, her tangled hair sinking into the crevices of the gnarly bark. It provided some shade, and Fili fought to stay awake as dawn came and Kili's snoring became lighter and lighter. She reached into her pocket and brought out a little whittling knife and proceeded to work listlessly at some twigs on the ground.

* * *

><p>"Fee?" Kili awoke with a start. Guiltily, she saw Fili was still awake, and looked like she hadn't sleep in two days, and it indeed was nearly so.<p>

"Eat something, drink up," Fili commanded.

"You need to sleep too," Kili protested.

"I will," Fili relented, her reserves of strength emptied at last, "Wake me up when the sun if high in the sky. We are not far from the appointed place."

Kili drank from their half-empty water skins and made a quick meal of some dry braid. Then she lay back and started plaiting the long blades as grass. As children, Dis has taught them to weave leftover winter-straw with their nimble little fingers. They made long, long plaits that were sold to makers of straw hats and baskets. Thinking of the smell of straw, sometimes fresh and sometimes musty, brought back memories to Kili, and her heart sank at the thought of the missing stone. Dis would be very disappointed, and heartbroken.

When Fili awoke, the sun was shaded from her face with a makeshift grass hat Kili had made. It was an ugly, silly, thing, but it made Fili smile. Then she got up, remembering Kili's stone in her pocket.

"Ahem," Fili pushed away the floppy mass of grass cleared her throat, "We best get going."

Kili looked up. Her arms were folded and she had been stitching something on her coat.

Fili decided to come clean.

"Here," she said, holding out a black stone on her palm, "I hope you take better care of it in the future."

Kili glared at her sister and snatched the runestone away.

"You had it all along!"

"I picked it up on the road!"

They tumbled a little wild, pushing each other over in a friendly fight amongst the wild grasses. Fili was careful not to expend to much energy, but she wasn't going to let Kili climb all over her either.

Then the two undignified ladies redid their hair, straightened and brushed their clothes clean, and headed straight to the Shire. Along the way, they crossed a large river that Balin had told them off, stopping to wash their faces and refill their waterskins.

"There it is, the rune on the door makes it clear," pointed Fili. They had rode into the flourishing Hobbit settlement and marveled at the oddly-shaped houses and the beautiful gardens. Each smial smelt of delicious food and dinner, and both their stomachs rumbled for a warm fire and hot food, though Fili told herself they would have precious little of either of them along the journey east.

"I hope there's dinner," Kili said.

"Mind your manners," warned Fili, and nudged her pony forward.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Squaring their shoulders, Fili and Kili exchanged hesitant glances before knocking the round door. They wanted to make a good impression on the company burglar. When a small, fussy fellow opened the door they both immediately straightened up and assumed low, impressive voices much in the style of their royal uncle.

"...at your service!" they chimed together by way of introduction.

"You must be Mister Boggins!" exclaimed Kili gleefully in her deep dwarf-woman voice. They made their way inside insistently, above Mr. Baggin's protests, and were consumed with happiness at the thought of being safely indoors.

Fili felt Kili's energy radiating off her body. They smelt food, wonderful food in fact. And looking around, it was obvious that Uncle was not here. Ah, they had _proved _to him their abilities, and now was time to celebrate as much as they could until he got here. Thorin was a most dour and unhappy of dwarves.

"Ah Kili!"

"Mister Dwalin!" Kili's beamed with joy.

"Give me a hand with these, will you?"

Dwalin was dragging chairs, and Kili hastened to help him.

"Do be careful with these," Fili handed her weapons to Bilbo as was customary when entering a home, "We've just had them sharpened."

For all Bilbo knew, these were two dwarves. Nothing about their appearance or apparel made him think of them as female.

"Fili!" Dwalin poured a jug of ale and waved it, and Fili thought he was offering her for himself, "Help me with this, will you?"

Dwalin took a sip of ale and pointed to his long leather cloak,

"There's a hole, right here," Dwalin showed Fili, "Could ye mend it, lass? My eyes are not what they used to be."

"Aye," Fili nodded, taking a closer look, "It can be mended. I have a needle here, but what can we patch it with?"

"Let me do it," butted in Kili.

Fili gave her sister a sideways look, for Kili never offered to mending. In fact, she usually tried to avoid it at all costs. Fili, the older and more responsible of the pair, often found herself tasked with frugally restoring rags to wearability.

"I can cut a piece off my cloak," Kili said, "It needs to be rehemmed, anyway, for it is too long."

Another lie. Kili's cloaks were often too short, for she was still growing. Tall and spindly, she cut an awkward figure next to stout, well-rounded-out Fili.

"No..." began Fili, but Balin cut in, joining the huddle in Bilbo's hall and pulling out a pair of eyeglasses to take a closer look.

"My, my," Balin shook his head, "What have you gotten into, Nadad? Cat with claws?"

Dwalin started to say something, but Balin immediately offered,

"I've a piece of leather that matches better than Kili's cloak, you'll do better with it, lass."

Kili occupied with her mending, Fili proceeded to make much out of thoroughly enjoying Bilbo Baggin's pantry. Kili saw her sister sharing an ale with Dwalin and immediately reddened with jealousy. But, she did look down at the fine cloak in her hands and felt a warm, satisfying feeling inside.

She enjoyed the little scene of a rather distressed hobbit prancing about with a smirk of amusement, and heard the unmistakable knock of the rest of the company at the door.

Perhaps it was Thorin.

Kili straightened up immediately - where was her bow? Were her teeth clean? Did she look responsible and mature enough?

A breath of relief and confusion escaped Kili's lips when she saw that the pile of upturned dwarves on the halfling's front rug did not include her uncle. Thorin would not be in a very amicable or magnanimous mood if he felt in any way dishonored or embarrassed.

The mending completed, Kili joined the merry throng in preparing for a dinner feast. It was truly then that the "party" began, and what a jolly party it was, for all that Fili and Kili were expected, princesses or not, to help with the washing up.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Stern Warnings

"Ahem!" coughed Thorin as he passed by Fili and Kili in Bilbo Baggin's hall.

"Sir," they gulped in unison.

"I expect more from the pair of you."

"Forgive me, it was my fault," Fili began.

"It was mine," Kili contradicted, "My fault entirely."

With Thorin, it was always best to apologize first, and then find out why later.

"I do believe your mother raised you to have better sense. Singing! I could hear both of you from the foot of the hill. I would never have found this... hole... otherwise. What a disgrace! A shame! It is indecorous and below your dignity."

Fili bowed her head, her heart thudding in dread. She had no words to say.

"I will overlook your behaviour this time," Thorin said after a dreadfully long moment, "But I cannot tolerate any more singing. Kili, see to the horses, they are picketed outside. Fili, see if you can find me some decent soup. Nothing else, just soup."

Kili huffed. Uncle Thorin was unreasonable, but Fili always insisted that they did exactly as he said to the very letter. If he forbade singing, they would not even whisper or hum.

Fili wondered why her uncle insisted on drinking broth when there was so much good, delicious fresh food, some of the best Fili had ever eaten, in fact. Still, he had, in hr eyes, always deliberately chosen to be unpleasant as possible about _everything. _

* * *

><p>Fili had the last chore of the night, knocking out her uncle's pipe ashes in Bilbo's grate, cleaning it thoroughly and then leaving to bunk down beside Kili. They were situated outside, with the ponies, so that no local burglars might have their chance at sabotaging the all-important quest. Kili was busy polishing her boots, as Thorin found muddy boots intolerable. Once, he made Kili lick her boots clean after she tracked in mud all over the kitchen.<p>

It was miserably cold, and Fili couldn't help thinking about the warm bed at home, her hand-quilted goose down, and the bottle of hot water to squeeze by her side to soothe cramps. It would be miserable having her monthlies on the road, since Uncle did not like requests for bathroom breaks.

He didn't yell at them often. When he did, it was usually very harsh. It was dreadfully demeaning to be put down like a child. Fili and Kili would do anything for a bit of praise, and they _hated _it when Thorin berated them for ridiculous reasons and would not let them put their side of the matter across. He would yell at Kili the most, because she often left her weapons lying about in a heap and that was something he was _never _allowed to do as a child.

Fili always tried to do exactly as she was told. If she was commanded not to do something, she would stick to it with dogged persistence until her mother or uncle was worn out.

To be fair, Thorin and Dis had been raised in a household where nothing was excused - not a hair out of place, not a word out of line, not a stone left unturned. It was to be the same in the Blue Mountains as it had been in Erebor, as far as Thorin was concerned.

Unlike cousin Gimli, who could get away with murder, Fili and Kili had to live by an endless list of rules. Who could have friends over for supper? Not Fili and Kili. Who could spend their nights singing and dancing in taverns? Not Fili and Kili. Who could giggle? Not Fili and Kili. Who could wear flowers in their hair in the springtime? Not Fili and Kili. Nothing remotely elven was allowed in the home, and when Fili suggested bringing in a yule log to burn over the winter solstice, Dis had a fit.

Coin was sparse around the house. No one could afford more than a new cloak or dress, but they were expected to make do and mend, and always look perfectly respect. No holes, no tears, no crumples. Of course, Thorin had allocated a great deal of coin recently to make sure they had shiny new boots, hoods, cloaks and weapons for the big journey. He loved spending on them, and Kili's most prized possession was her bow. It was an elaborate, expensive carved piece Thorin had surprised her with several weeks ago, and any lingering resentment over being forbidden to dance in the Spring Festival was completely forgotten.

"The bow is a fine weapon," Thorin growled when Kili protested picking up a less popular skill amongst their peers, "It will suit you. Every company needs an archer."

And it did suit Kili. Thorin knew from observing her deft, long fingers and sharp eyes, that Kili would be much better suited to the bow. And Fili, who was ambidextrous just like her father... twin swords would enable her to fend off attacks on both sides.

* * *

><p>Thorin rubbed a peephole out of the foggy round porthole of a window. He would make sure they were safe and well before turning in himself. Perhaps they resented him, perhaps he was too strict. Well, he was giving them a bit of freedom now, even if he was watching from inside. Perhaps they wanted to spend the last night of comfort indoors. No, it was better for the girls to get used to being outdoors. He knew from the way Fili was curled up that she wasn't going to enjoy horseback riding for a few days. He knew Kili was homesick, by the way she covered her face with the cloak and snuggled far closer to her sister than she was wont to do in recent years.<p>

It wasn't that he was upset at them for singing, he was just trying to teach them to be more dignified and responsible. Such tavernous behaviour did not suit princesses. Besides, their lifted voices would be a dead giveaway regarding their sexes, and would invite unwanted attention. He just couldn't have that. He couldn't have them in danger, especially if he wasn't present. If any fellow so much as dared to gaze lewdly or catcall either of them, however unthinkable the idea was, Thorin would have his head sooner than Dwalin could finish a quart of Drunkard's Whiskey.

The thought of another two of his kin falling prey to the dragon filled Thorin with dread. He would have to find some way to avoid bringing them to the mountain, to meet the dragon. They would be angry with him, of course, but he just wouldn't do it. He wouldn't let them near the mountain until he knew for sure the dragon was dead.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_An hour before dawn..._

Dwalin awoke. He had barely been able to sleep, what with being in a new and unfamiliar place and being nervous about the seeming lack of security in the Shire. It was time, Dwalin decided, to get a move on.

Balin was snoring peacefully beside him. Both of them lay on Bilbo's floor cover in their own cloaks. Balin was curled up in a contented ball, smiling, and, as Dwalin knew well, drooling into Bilbo Baggin's lounge pillow.

It was not difficult for Dwalin to right himself up, as quietly as he could manage being a dwarf of large frame in an underground hole made for teeny-weeny halflings. Stumbling past Bofur and Bifur who lay side by side in the corridor (sleeping), and nodding to Thorin who looked like he had smoked his pipe all night by the firegrate, Dwalin got right down to business.

Throwing open Bilbo's front door, Dwalin hailed the two sleeping princesses.

"Fili! Kili!" came a harsh whisper.

Fili stirred first, opening one eye and deciding that it was still night. Kili jerked awake to the sound of Dwalin's familiar voice - his tone always demanded an immediate response.

"Come, lasses, we have not the time," Dwalin stomped his foot impatiently. He was fond of these two, as any indulgent bachelor uncle was likely to be, great warrior or not.

"Aye," Kili sat up and began adjusting her hair groggily.

"Kili, attend to your business and come with me," Dwalin motioned down the path, "We will purchase food to feed the company. Early breakfast, and then we move."

"What of Mr. Boggins?" Kili asked, though she was pleased to be chosen to accompany Dwalin on the errand, "Will he come?"

"I'll wager you he does not," Dwalin felt about his person for his coin-pocket, "Two gold coins. Now get a move on you. Fili... Fili, awake the rest. You and Ori will tidy this... house... Thorin will hold you responsible for making it as presentable as it was before we arrived. Spotless, clean, and all that."

With some difficulty Dwalin used words he didn't quite grasp the meaning of, but he knew Fili did.

Kili brushed past Dwalin into the house to attend to the privy, which she very much needed, and then accompanied Dwalin, who was waiting outside, having used a secluded flower-bed for his own needs.

"Come," Dwalin motioned. He was not one for many words, and it was Kili who conducted most of the business, haggling in a way that would do her mother proud and refusing, like any respectable dwarf, offers of foreign foods such as cabbages, carrots and other things that grew out of the ground. Dwalin nodded in affirmation every time Kili looked to him.

Their arms covered with baskets of fresh bread, raw eggs and cold meats, Dwalin and Kili made their way up the hill. The sun was beginning to rise and Kili wanted to see more of the breathtaking sight, having seen few such sunrises in her life. Dwalin, who would otherwise completely ignore such things as sceneries and landscapes, stood by the side to let Kili enjoy it from the top o the hill.

Instead of the sunrise, he watched her. Kili always had such a bright, beaming smile, a beautiful sweet face that exuded innocence. The lass had never seen battles such as he had seen, and Dwalin wondered at what the Quest on which they were embarking would do to her - what scars and marks of suffering it would inflict. Still, he had trained her and her sister - there were fine warriors, no doubt about that.

"Ye'll do just fine," he said bluntly when Kili dared approach her weaponsmaster for counsel regarding the matter of the Quest, "I told yer uncle. Verra fine indeed."

Now, Dwalin cleared his throat,

"They'll be waiting," he said, and Kili obediently drew herself away from the edge of the hill.

She was quiet, and Dwalin decided to say something. It had weighed upon his mind for some time, and though he would never question Thorin's choices where it concerned the princesses' upbringing, he decided that they

"I wouldna take it too hard, what Thorin says," Dwalin said to Kili as they trudged down the lane, "He means well. And we know you'll do us proud."

Kili was looking down at the ground, but she looked up.

"Pride, honour, courage," Dwalin continued, "There are marks of the line of Durin. This is your heritage, and you need to hold your head high and push yerself forward. That's all I have to say."

"Thank you, Mister Dwalin," said Kili quietly.

"What? Carn't hear ye."

"Thank you."

"Aye, well, lassies first."

Dwalin held open Bilbo's door and let Kili enter with her baskets of breakfast. Bofur reached for the long loaf of bread, and Nori for another. Eager hands came from all sorts of places, as everyone was awake now.

"Hold it!" bellowed Dwalin from behind. Everyone stopped.

"We've to fry the eggs first," Dwalin waved his basket, "And the meat."

Only Nori succeeded in his snitching, and Kili managed to put together a fine breakfast, deliver six fried and unbroken eggs with ham to Thorin, and sit down for a hasty breakfast of her own. Bifur did the dishes.

Fili had the harder job of it, perhaps, scurrying about with Ori and straightening things whilst Thorin pointed here and there and asked her why the curtains were not drawn, why there was dust on the mantelpiece and why hadn't she swept the pipeashes from the carpet.

She had barely had a bite of ham when she was sent outside to saddle the ponies. Thankfully, dwarves were not lazy. Dori did quite a bit of the cleaning in his usual, pedantic, way, and Balin wanted to examine the horses himself, just in case any of them needed shoeing.

"Here," Thorin shoved a generous plateful in her had, "Eat all of it."

Fili gulped. It was a full plate, whatever the others had not eaten - ham, eggs, cheese, meat, bread... Thorin always made sure they ate enough food, which in his mind was a lot. Unfortunately, Thorin did not appreciate the fact that Lady Dwarves cared about their weight, and that Fili was struggling to lose several extra inches.

Nevertheless, Fili, not wanting to cross her uncle, ate her meal with two minds. On one hand, it was delicious and filling. After all, they would probably be on half-rations for most of the quest. On the other hand... she was glad Dis didn't pack her any dresses.


End file.
